


Where Did You Sleep Last Night: Chapter One

by evanthomashollandhiddleston



Category: American Horror Story: Hotel
Genre: F/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 22:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanthomashollandhiddleston/pseuds/evanthomashollandhiddleston
Summary: Making money isn't easy, but Y/N found a way. But when she goes to the Hotel Cortez, money might not be her main concern anymore...





	Where Did You Sleep Last Night: Chapter One

What am I doing? These fuckers don’t even carry that much cash. Is it really worth it? They’re life means nothing, not shit. Just gives me a high like nothing else. The money is just a perk. But the cops are on my tail, I know I have to stop, but how? It takes three times more coke to give me such a level of euphoria, and only lasts half as long.   
‘Last one’ I told myself as I watched a man enter the bar. Probably was staying at the hotel too as a last minute, hiding away til the high wears off type of thing. He was clearly well off, flaunting his expensive looking watch, it clashing with his white suit jacket and jeans. He looked too young for it to be his own money, had to have gotten it from his mommy and daddy. He walked over and sat beside me, reeking of some overpriced cologne.  
“Looking for some cash?” He faced forward as if it wasn’t obvious to the bartender what he was doing.   
“I might be.”  
“I’d pay ya for your service, as long as you earn it. How much?”  
“Depends. What are you looking for?”  
“A quick fuck. Been a while since I got laid.”  
“Let’s say $500.” He thought for a moment before standing up.   
“Meet me at my room, 55, in ten minutes.” His voice was in a whisper as he left the bar. I paid my bill before following suit, 10 minutes later specifically.  
I found the room and knocked. The guy answered in nothing but his robe, the sight of which made me nauseous. I entered and as soon as the door shut, the man’s throat was slit. I dropped the knife on the bed and began the search for his wallet. Just as I found it, I was startled by a man dressed as though he was in the 1920s. He reminded me of Gomez Addams. He knelt down and inspected the body.  
“Skillful. Not even all the way across. You’ve done this before yes?” He stood again and stepped closer to me.   
“Once or twice.”  
“More than that. The cut is one only an experience killer would make.” He was now right in front of me. I should have been scared. He’d either turn me in or kill me himself the ladder being more realistic after our discussion. “Why do you do it?”  
“I’m broke, easy way to make money without having to use my body as some sex doll.”  
“Don’t lie to me dear. As it says in the book of John chapter 8 verse 32, ‘truth will set you free’.”  
“Weird, didn’t take ya for a believer in that shit. Isn’t murder against your morals?”  
“Answer me. Now.”  
“I love the power; power over life and death.” I took a break and it was silent. “You are aware it’s no long the Roarin’ ‘20s right?” He chuckled a bit.  
“My name is James Patrick March, I own this fine establishment. Come, I am going to dinner with my former students, you should join. I’m sure they’d find you quite…fascinating and vice versa.” I threw the wallet down by the body putting the cash in my pocket. I just got a solid $2,500. Must’ve stiffed his drug dealer.  
“Alright, Mr. March, I’ll go. I am rather hungry.” We walked out of the room on leaving the body behind, no intent on returning. But I learned I would be very wrong.


End file.
